White Knights Duty
by JamesCormac
Summary: Xander decides that he has to take matters into his own hands by taking on Angelus by himself. However forces beyond his control are working in the background to keep destiny on track. The only question his which will prevail? Chapter 3 Now Up!
1. In The Name of Duty

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**_Disclaimer: Don't own Xander... sadly he belongs to another_**

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**AN: This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, or atleast I hope its going to be. I really need a beta-reader.. At least I think I do I'm not 100 sure of what they do, but if they pre-read stories to look for errors and stuff then thats what I need really bad! So if your intersted please send me and email. You can find it in my profile. Oh and please review with any kind of constructive criticism. Please and Thank You!**

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He meant it as an insult, and I took it as one. A white knight, no her white knight. He is right though it does kill me that he got to her. Not just because he got to her first, believe me I made peace with the fact that I would never be seen by her in anyway except for as her Xander-Shaped Friend. What kills me is that he got to her at all. He's a demon, a vampire with or with out a soul he can never step out into the sun and revel in its warm embrace. Crosses mare is skin and holy water burns his flesh. I want him gone preferably his ashes blowing forever in the wind. She can't do it though. I know this for a fact she will always see Angel. Blinded by the face of the man she loves. I find myself incapable of blaming her for that. If Jesse hadn't accidentally fell into the stake I was holding then I never would have been able to do it.

I understand it, but that doesn't mean that I will accept it. Angel and Angelus, the both of them are practically the bane of my life. Well, next to my father that is. He needs to be staked, decapitated, or set on fire. The last one is the one I'm particularly fond of. Anything, something besides just letting him run free and ramped around sunnydale killing whomever he pleases. I have a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that blonde haired girls is what Angelus is hunting or will be hunting very soon.

I rub the back of my head slightly trying to dispel the small twinge of pain that suddenly erupted in the back of my head. As quickly as it came the pain faded. Must be stress I mused. Once the pain completely faded a vague semblance of a plan started to form. A lop-sided grin spread across my face as the plan took shape with my head, but I would need help.

I know Giles would be on board with me. After what that soulless bastard did to Jenny. I didn't know her very well just that she was the computer teacher who Giles happened to like. Even when her secret was out. Giles still held affection for her even if Buffy did not. She was important to Giles and thus she was important to me. He tried to kill Angelus but he only accomplished in burning the factory that they were hiding out of down. He hates Angelus more than I do and no one not even Buffy can fault him for that. Except He doesn't hate Angel, but if the opportunity is given he would gladly destroy Angelus. He isn't blinded by his face he can see the difference between Angel and Angelus. Giles would help me.

Willow, my sweet dear Willow still see what happening around her as something straight out of one of those romantic novels she denies reading. To her Buffy and Deadboy are destined to be together. I once over heard her and Buffy talking and she said that they were soul mates. Not sure about that, but I do know that you can't be soul mates if only one of you has a soul. I have a feeling that Willow will never be able to see Angel for what he truly was, A vampire. She sees him as something slightly dark and mysterious that swept her best friend off her feet.

Yes her best friend, and I'm pretty sure my feet are planted firmly on the ground. I'm still her friend of course, but like Jesse and I share a connection because we were both guys in the group. Her and Buffy share that same connection because they are both girls in the group. If I asked her to help me get rid of Angelus once and for all she would surely shake her head and tell me that I'm acting the way I am out of jealousness.

On the surface I could deny it, I could look at Willow or Buffy and say that jealousy isn't the reason, but deep down within me I know they are right. Not necessarily because he had Buffy, though that is a part of it. The jealousy that burns within me is because he had almost everything I ever desired to have. Save the whole being dead thing. He was handsome and mysterious with nice clothing and practically stole the girl of my dreams away from me.

I caught myself one night blaming him for Jesse's death. It was one year ago that day and I blamed Deadboy for it. For no other reason than it was his sire Darla that took Jesse and turned him. As soon as I finished that though I realized something horrifying about myself.

I realized I was doing what my father always did blaming someone else for my own misfortune. He gets fired from another job, and its not his fault he went in drunk, or called off one to many times because he couldn't handle his hangover the next day. No it was my fault or my mother's fault, or the higher ups were trying to keep him down. Bile had risen up in my throat the more I though about it. Would I start blaming my friends next? Would I start hitting the bottle? Start lashing out at Willow?

No, No, No once again I forcefully push those thoughts away, but the mental image of Willow looking up at me with a fist sized bruise on her face, shock and fear clearly visible in her eyes will never go away. Never would I hurt my Wills. If I ever did strike her, I don't know what I would do. Leave maybe; run away so I could never do it again. Maybe end my own retched life at that point, if I had sunken that far down.

Giles once said that most slayers don't make it past a year or so. Buffy beat those odds. Why? Its not because she's a better slayer then her predecessors. I'm sure others lots of others have worked harder, studied harder, and trained harder than her. Its because unlike all the other slayers before her, she refuses to truly dedicate herself. Mind, body and soul. Her mind and body she does, out at night on patrol she's a force of nature. Her strength and speed its amazing, even after all this time I can't help but be amazed at what she is capable of. What the slayer is capable of, but when the nights over though she stop being the slayer. She goes home to a mother that loves her then in the mornings she goes to school like every other normal teenager. She has friends like every other teenager, and that keeps her grounded. Keeps her alive and stronger than the other slayers. It's her soul it's always about the soul in the end its more precious than gold.

Her soul is that of Buffy Summers and not the slayer. However, I can see that it is slowly changing. Maybe its not even changing that slowly. Her thoughts are starting to become focused purely on slayage and on Angelus. Her smiles are becoming more fake more plastic in appearance. She only half listens to anything that's not solely about the night, or about Him. What kills me is that no one else notices besides me. What kills me is that when I do what I'm thinking about doing, then chances are I'm going to lose her as a friend. Lose her as everything Giles too and maybe even Willow.

I can live with that if I have too. Because in the end I am a white knight her white knight. And what knight wouldn't risk it all to protect his queen? Even if she doesn't realize she needs saving herself.

I move over to one of the less than comfortable waiting room chairs and I lean back. Sighing softly to myself I tiredly rub my eyes.

"He meant it as an insult" I whisper "but it just might be his downfall."


	2. Journey Through Hostile Territory

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_Disclaimer: You know what just looking at the first chapter._

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**_AN: Okay second chapter is now up. I have problems with finding my own grammer mistakes and word spellcheck doesn't always find everything so until i find someone to pre-read my works for me before I publish them the only thing I can ask is for some patience. Oh and plz review!_**

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Giles made an appearance sometime early the next morning. When I had told him that I had stood watch outside Buffy's door all night he looked at my as if he was confused as to why I would do such a thing. I explained to him about fearing for Buff's safety since vamps don't need an invite to come and go in hospitals.

He thanked me in an off-handed sort of way and asked if I had any trouble during the night. The question was asked with very little interest. Assuming no doubt that I had no problems since I was unharmed. I didn't really mind considering the fact that I could hardly believe that I was able to stand up to Angelus and not be laying in a hospital bed next to Buffy, or worse being laid out on a cold metal table in the morgue.

I told him it was just a long and grueling night trying to with stand the torturous chairs that the hospitals make you sit in. In response Giles just nodded and took off his glasses to begin cleaning them. Poor guy still isn't himself after Ms. Calendar's death. He looks rather un-British like this morning.

Bone weary I guess would be more accurate. A dark patch clearly visible under his eyes, while the rest of his face is pale and slightly gaunt. He looks older too not that he wasn't already old, but now its like he has aged 10 years. I wish I could wish all this away make it so Ms. Calendar hadn't died, or better yet if Deadboy never showed up in the 'Dale. Too bad wishes don't come true, least not the good ones anyway.

During the long hours of the night, waiting for the sun to peak out from the horizon and once again provide a temporary haven from the darkness, I had further developed my plan to eliminate Angelus. Now though looking at Giles I don't think I can confide in him after all. Could be the stray that broke the horses back.

I study him again while making idle chit-chat about nothing of importance just the usual Xander babble, and I decide that even though It will be a huge set back I can not go to the G-man to help. It's just to soon after what's happened to him to ask him to be apart of this. I'll have to go at it alone.

"Is their something wrong Xander?" Giles asked, "You seemed to have went off into your own little world."

"What? Oh, nothing I just remembered where I hid a pack of Twinkies at" I nervously replied. If he suspected something, then he didn't let on.

"Yes well, why not run home Xander and get some rest, I'm sure you more than earned it." He replied kindly.

With a lop-sided smile I dashed past G-man and headed out of the hospital. It would be harder without Giles, but it could still be done. During the night I had several ideas about getting rid of the soulless bastard. Some involved Giles doing a spell to maybe bring back the Hyena, but without the whole wanting to eat raw pork and wanting to mate with Buffy. That idea turned into a fully bloomed fantasy as I envisioned myself as a male slayer counterpart. Once the fantasy had dissipated I realized that it would be nothing more than a fantasy. The spell would most likely be too dangerous and for some reason magic has a grudge against me. The love spell incident is proof of that.

The male slayer dream was out of the question but the soldier memories might be the way to go. Most of the memories have faded from at least the forefront of my mind. I still have nightmares of fighting in the jungles of Vietnam, and if I'm still having the nightmares than that means that the memories must still be there. Just buried somewhere in my mind and their might be a way of recalling those memories without the aid of magic.

Giles had explained to us the morning after Halloween about the specifics of the spell and how Ethan had used a rather wild branch of magic called chaos to empower the spell through a bust of Janus. The G-man explained that once the bust was destroyed the spell ended and as the magic dissipated so would any false memories the costume had created. For the next few days Buffy could speak fluent French, but towards the end of the week she was back to getting her usual C- in French class. Any skills I had from Soldier Guy left me too, but his memories still remained. Once again proving the magic and I are at odds.

I head out of the sliding doors of the hospital and slowly towards my parents house. I have a house, but not a home. You feel safe in your home, and my house is not somewhere I feel safe. As sad as it is I feel the schools library is more of a home than my house.

The sun has almost completely risen about the horizon all but the small sliver at the bottom. The sky is clear and is ever so slowly turning to a lighter shade of blue as the sun continues to rise. It's early and my parents aren't known for being early risers. Mostly likely their passed out drunk in the living room. Well mom might have made it to their bedroom, but years of experience in dealing with my fathers all to frequent binges has allowed me to learn to do's and don't of avoiding his wrath.

It cannot be more than half past six, and I'm quiet when I enter my house. Front door is out of the question because chances are that my old man is passed out on the couch and the light from the outside world entering the inside of the darkened living room. Waking my father up from one of his benders is not a good way to start out a day. My window is stuck and I have not been able to get it unstuck in all the years I've been staying in that room. I would ask Buffy to use a bit of her slayer strength to fix it, but I honestly don't want her to see the squalor in which I live in. The shame of it all would probably kill me. I haven't let Willow into my house since the sixth grade.

I go in through the basement window, around the back of the house. It's all routine by now the window panel is loose and it's easily pulled out then put back into place once I'm inside. The basement stairs are easy too. Four of the steps creak while only 2 groan. Years of this routine have instilled in me an instinctive path to follow when going up the steps. The basement door is the only thing that I can't get a feel of. It's prone to squeak and groan at random times when opening and closing it. I have learned that it's best to go slowly and take my time.

I reach out and give the door handle a gentle wrest to the right, before pushing lightly on the door slowly pushing it open. After its open far enough to slide through I do so quickly and quietly. I don't bother to close the door back to risky and besides my parents believe it opens at times on its own. My dad keeps saying that one day he is going to get up and fix it. He won't he hasn't bothered to strap on the 'ole tool belt in years. I avoid every loose floorboard in the kitchen.

I'm hungry but I don't bother checking to see if there is anything to eat in the kitchen. No point I know the cupboards are bare, and the fridge is empty except for beer. Moving on I take the stairs leading upstairs pretty much the same as I do the ones leading up from the basement. Once inside my room I close and lock my door. One lock on the doorknob and two deadbolts just above it this too is routine for me.

Not bothering to undress or to even climb inside the covers I just drop unceremoniously on the bed and quickly fall fast asleep. The pain in the back of my head just barely starting to flair again.


	3. Of Dreams and Premonitions

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_**Disclaimer: Okay okay I don't own Xander or anything in the Buffyverse... but oh boy if i did own Xander... giggles like a school girl well...anyway..**_

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_AN: Okay, this of course is the third chapter in my story and I'm actually thinking of discontinuing it for the time being. I'm having a hard time with this story for some reason. Actually I think the reason is because I had started it as a first person perspective and I'm not very good at that type._

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_Special Thanks to my only reviewer **SquirlyForSpike** because if it wasn't for your reviewsI would of most likely quit publishing on the bases of getting no feedback positive or otherwise._

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"Buffy" He rasped out. "Help me please. Oh God, Buffy please help me." A smirk slowly spread across Buffy's face. The smirk held no humor or playful mischievous only hate and rage.

Hanging from chains, in a slightly run down room in an old mansion was Xander Harris. Naked and bloody, his prone and weak form hung limply in the air. His arms stretched out, and feet bound together he was in the famous crucifixion position a successful attempt at mocking his attempt to be Buffy's hero, her savior. Lashes from a whip covered his back creating crisscross scars. After the whip came the hot poker, then the knife, and finally the castration. His body was broken, and his mind was following the very same path.

"Help?" Buffy questioned haughtily "Why would you need my help? I mean you got yourself into this situation, can't you get yourself out of it?"

"Buffy" Xander tried to continue, but his voice didn't have enough left to form words. The screams had left his throat raw. He tried again though anyway, but he just didn't have the strength

"No, don't you dare Buffy me Xander." She snarled, spittle flying from her mouth as she spoke with such hate and disgust that to Xander it was worse than the physical torture from Angelus. It was torturing his very soul. "I mean you thought you could kill my Angel? He's a master vampire Xander, and your just an ordinary… well, I was going to say guy but now I guess your not much of a man anymore are you Xan? No not anymore your not, and you deserved everything you got. Its what you get for being so jealous of me and my love that you tried to kill him."

Again, he tried to form the words, but still unable to he couldn't even lift his head up off his chest to see her face. Not that he wanted to, no the hate and anger in her voice was killing him enough. To actually see it on her face would be too much. Couldn't she see why he had tired? How it was killing her soul. How it wasn't Angel he was trying to kill but Angelus? Apparently not, but that didn't mean he deserved this torture. He wanted to explain himself to try and reason with her, but he could not.

Stepping out from under the darkened doorway was Angelus, a wicked smile across his demonic face. He casually swaggered over to Buffy, wrapping one arm around her waist, and the other one right below her breasts.

"You really shouldn't talk to the decorative pieces lover, you might start taking after Dru." His voice was teasing, with an underlying of malice.

Hearing the voice of his torturer, Xander slowly forced his head up from his chest to look at the two of them. What he saw truly tortured his soul. Buffy and Angelus were locked in a passionate and heated kiss. His hands roamed up and down her body. One slide up her skirt, and her legs parted willingly. Not bearing to see anymore, Xander dropped his head back down.

Eventually, the couple broke apart. Buffy once again started to degrade, and belittle Xander, while Angelus approached Xander a hot poker materializing into his hand from out of thin air.

"You really deserve this Xander you really do" Buffy said. "You should have just minded your own business. I am the slayer after all." With that Angelus roughly jabbed him in the stomach.

Screaming loudly, I practically shot up from my bed. Shaking slightly and covered in a light coating of sweat, I try to slow my breathing and get a hold of myself. Glancing over at my alarm clock I'm shocked to see that its only 8:30. I had only managed to get a little over 2 hours of sleep. Placing a hand over my heart I try to still my breathing.

The dream felt so real, it truly felt as if he was being stabbed with that hot poker. What felt even more real was the aching in my heart as I recalled what all Buffy said. A loud banging on my door interrupted my thoughts.

"What the hell is going on in their boy?" a gruff and slightly muffled voice yelled out from the other side of the door.

"Not now" I whisper to myself, a since a dread filled my stomach, in strangely the same place where Angelus had stabbed me in my dreams.

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"Was that really necessary Brother?" She asked, glancing over at her brother. 

"This lower being cannot be allowed to interfere with our champions my dear Sister. We have already decided on a path to follow, and all are pieces are in play." Her brother replied.

"He is not an ordinary lower being, he is of the random."

"That is why I cannot allow him to do what he is planning on doing." He replied again. "He has already defied prophesy once by bring back the girl, I will not allow him to further disrupt our plans."

"You know as well as I do that he did not defy a prophecy. The Slayer Buffy Summers did in fact die just like it was written. The fact that he brought her back does not disrupt that fact" She commented.

"You have your own projects dear Sister, and I do not interlope on them. Perhaps it would be best to allow me to complete my own project without your opinions?" He asked

"Very well, dear Brother, but I highly doubt that a dream will shake him from his path. He seems very determined."

Glancing for the first time in the conversation, to look at his sister he spoke softly in a calm voice.

"He will dream the dreams I send him, every time he sleeps. If that is not enough to stop him, then I will take other measures." With that the male oracle turned away and headed back down the corridor before disappearing.

"He is no ordinary mortal" she said to no one.


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